Some Pics from Sarasota.(and one short story.)

(NEW PHOTOS OF THE HOUSE ARE ADDED BELOW!)

My grandmother sent me some pics from our vacation in Sarasota last week. I thought you might like to see them. Here they are...


This is the view of the sunset out on the Gulf of Mexico on Sunday evening. Eh, it's a sunset. Seen one. Seen em all.


This is me. I am sunbathing on the pier behind the cabana where we stayed. This was Saturday, the day before I left. I was laying out on a deck chair that was about a foot too short for me, so my feet jutted off the end. I was listening to Garrison Keillor's "Prairie Home Companion" on my ipod and giggling quietly to myself. I was not aware that my grandmother took this picture from the mainland. Behind me, you can see the bay and in the distance, the actual Florida coastline. I mentioned that the property was on a key, didn't I?


This goofy picture is me and my mom, clowning around for the camera. When my grandmother announced that she wanted a picture of us, I leaned in close to her and smiled a big, dumb grin, completely obscuring my mom. She had to literally scramble over me to be visible to the camera. Of course, the picture caught us both with our eyes closed, but what can you do?
Also, looks like somebody got some sun on that pier, eh?


My grandmother (age 75) and my grandfather (age 82) enjoy a stroll on the beach with my mom's dog, Sidney (age 5). Behind them is the Gulf of Mexico. Which was also about fourty feet away from where we were staying.


This picture was taken outside the restaurant where we got breakfast on Sunday morning, before I flew back to Chicago. That's my grandfather and me, standing next to a clown statue. Ringling Brothers is a major presence in Sarasota, sponsoring museums, theaters and public art. The whole town was littered with these clown statues. My grandfather thought this was pretty funny. He called this one "Dick Vitale." (Aside from being a popular sports announcer, Vitale was also one of the owners of this particular restaurant, the Broken Egg. The clown does bear some resemblance to the man. Or so I was told.)

This is the house where we stayed...

In this picture, in addition to the rental cars, you can see the local vegetation and how the whole area was covered in this sand, tiny pebbles and tiny shells. 8 out of 10 visible trees, would all be palms.
Looking at the house, the center area, with the chimney is the bottom part of the "U" formation. That housed the kitchen and the family room. To the right of that, with the slightly lower roof, is the sun room.
The legs of the "U" formation extend to the right, out of the frame of this picture. You'll get a better view of them, below.


This is the courtyard in the center of the house.
Directly ahead is the family room, behind that tiny palm tree.
The doors on the left, all lead to three private bedrooms, each with it's own complete bathroom.
The doors on the right (which are not all that visible) lead to my bedroom and bath and a tiny laundry room.


This is the best view of the house. Obviously taken about twenty feet back from the last one. You can see here how all of the local trees provide cool shade all the way around the house.
This really is the best picture to give you an idea of how the house is laid out.
If you were taking this picture and turned around 180 degrees and walked about ten more feet, you'd be standing at the base of the pier where I sunbathed in the above picture.

The house really was amazing. My mom said that it's currently on the market for 5.9 million. And for the property, the proximity to the gulf and Sarasota Bay, the luxurious quarters and the sturdy construction, I can absolutely see why. I can't wait to go back.

A Celebrity Sighting...
One more thing happened on the island that I probably should mention in this entry.
Four houses down from us, at the end of the key where we stayed, lived Stephen King. The horror novelist. (And film director and screenwriter and pop culture icon.) Apparently, he owns two or three houses and this one was where he stayed when it was cold in Maine. My mom assured me that the security guard mentioned that "Mr.King was definitely in residence" while we were there.
So, we spent any time outside or in the cars, looking for Stephen King. In fact, every time we passed a man, any man, either on the beach or trimming the trees, someone in the van would excitedly yell, "IS THAT HIM? IS THAT STEPHEN KING?" But it never was. Eventually, it turned into a little joke for us. It was like looking for the Loch Ness Monster or the Yeti.
On Monday, the day after I got back to Chicago, my mom called me on my cell phone, very excited.

"You'll never guess who your stepdad just nearly ran over with the van!" she said.

"Stephen King?" I guessed. It was an easy guess to make. I didn't know any other famous people lived on the island.

"Yes! Stephen King! We JUST saw him." In the background I could hear everyone else in the van talking excitedly about it, "We were leaving the island to go to the ballpark and your stepdad was driving the van. He came around the corner and there he was, walking along in shorts and a t-shirt, reading a magazine while he walked. He looked up at us and waved. We waved back and your stepdad said, ' That guy ought to not walk on the road like that. Somebody is liable to hit him, if he's not careful.' We thought about going back and getting our pictures with him, but decided against it. He probably doesn't want to be bothered. It was very exciting."

"Wow. That is pretty neat. Good thing that Mike didn't run him over. You know that he was hit by a van a few years ago, right? It messed him up pretty badly." I said.

"Huh. No. We didn't know that. Well, we missed him this time. I bet if we DID run him over, he would think, 'Oh no. Not again!" she cheerfully offered.

"Yeah. I bet he would think that. Assuming you didn't kill him outright."

"Nope we didn't hit him... this time."

My mom's a funny lady.